Catch Me If I Fall
by StarlitWave10
Summary: Enjolras and Eponine sit next to each other on a plane. What more is there to say?
1. Chapter 1

Of course she's stuck in the tiny seat (the one that's just _too_ small to be comfortable). Of course he has the window seat and she's glued in the middle. And of course she's reading when he comes, so it's too late to leave the aisle and let him pass.

After a moment, however, she's slightly happier she hadn't noticed him earlier. Because now he was trying to squeeze by between her and the seat in front of her, and she can't help but notice that his ass is the hottest thing she's encountered on this frigid winter day. The plane isn't heated, but Eponine still feels a hot flush run up her face and paint her cheeks.

She buries her nose in her book once more, but the markings on the page no longer form coherent sentences.

"Sorry," he mumbles as he settles into the seat next to hers. She almost blurts something out along the lines of "oh, it's no problem" or "I don't mind," but ends up simply nodding.

Feeling another blush rising up on top of the other one - _I'm about to explode oh god I think he's staring at me get out get out _- Eponine quickly throws her book into the pocket of the seat in front of her and stumbles (more like falls) out into the aisle, desperate just to get away, get outside, because her lungs suddenly feel severely lacking in air-

A passing stewardess almost becomes her first victim as Eponine ducks and dodges between the other passengers, aware that causing another scene in front of him - eyes so blue like the sky on a summer's day- might just cause her to melt through the floor and disappear forever. This plane ride was her last hope of leaving her past for good; she didn't need that handsome boy to follow her to a new life. A girl like her didn't deserve a young man like him. Her father had instilled _that_ thought in her often enough.

Voices swim around her, and for some reason -_stupid karma_- his voice stands out of the crowd, the slick, velvety sound that, even though it had been just a murmur, had sent pleasant shivers scuttling down her spine.

_Nope, Eponine, don't you dare go down that road. Love is part of your past, and it's all getting left behind in that hellhole you called a home._

"Excuse me, _Mademoiselle_?" She turns and resists the urge to shut her eyes, the rational side of her yelling the fact that she is not in the Wizarding world and that invisibility spells and cloaks do not actually exist.

"Me?" Eponine tries to keep her voice as nonchalant as possible, but she knows even he can't miss the fact that no woman's voice could ever be that high.

The young man smiles and Eponine feels her legs go weak. She wishes she could see him smile like that at her every day.

"You seem to have, erm, lost your shoe..." His voice trails off as he holds up an old boot that may have once been a rich chocolate color, but now looks like something that came out of-

_Let's not go there, Eponine. You don't need to go throwing up on the guy as well. Just imagine what he'd think of you then._

But sure enough, the only thing covering her left foot is a sock that's made out of more holes than cloth. It's only when he gently pulls her aside into an empty row of seats that she realizes how long she'd been standing in the aisle, unmoving and silent, staring at his golden curls and sharp blue eyes the whole time.

It is now that she realizes how cramped third class seats really are.

"Um, th-thank you, _Monsieur_," She takes a step back to try and -_escape you're running away again naughty girl_- step into the aisle, but karma seems to be on her period today because Eponine's foot catches on her other one and she starts falling, faster and faster, expecting the heavy ground to meet her breathless heart. Then her heart is beating again, only it's going one hundred times the speed of a normal person, because he is holding her, his arms circled around her waist, in that cramped row of empty seats that seem to have eyes of their own, watching and judging her.

_How dare she associate herself with a boy like that? A handsome young man like him doesn't deserve a gutter rat like her.  
_

_She dares to blush in his presence, the nerve!_

"Uh...I, um..." Eponine sees that her shoe was thrown onto the aisle in the young man's haste to catch her, and she almost smiles. She feels herself being pulled closer and closer toward his full mouth and blue eyes, the ones that speak of a never ending sky with an unreachable horizon, and Eponine wonders what it would be like to kiss him.

Another blush rises on her cheeks, and she wonders if her face will ever return to its original, tanned shade. They are so close, their noses practically touching, that she is _sure_ he sees her blush, is positive that he's judging her by it as harshly as those chairs.

"Thanks for, uh, catching me." The words stumble out of her mouth, as clumsy and wobbly as a child just learning to walk. He smiles, and at this close range she can count every one of the snowy white teeth.

_Fire there's fire everywhere and you're dying_

"You're welcome." He lets her stand and takes a step back, and Eponine suddenly finds herself missing the warmth of his arms on her waist, of their steadiness.

_Would you catch me again...if I were to fall?_ She wants to lose control of her tongue and blurt out every thought, appropriate and otherwise, that has entered her mind in the past five minutes, but he's clearing his throat and pointing behind her. A man with a black hat and equally black suitcase is gesturing to her, presumably asking to her move away from his seat.

She squeezes past him, going so far as to suck in her stomach to avoid touching him. When she's back in the aisle and in front of the way of yet _another _stewardess does she realize that the young man had taken hold of her arm again. Presumably, that was how she has gotten through the crowd unscathed.

_You're not in his arms but he's there he's watching and he sees you die_

"You seem to be attracting quite a bit of attention today." She turns to face him ad he's smiling that smile again, the beautiful one that makes his eyes light up.

"That's only 'cause you're the one pulling me around, _Monsieur_." She isn't sure if being sassy was going to help or hinder her, but at the moment it's all she has to hide behind, the only thing she has to lash out and protect herself with. Becoming friendly with strange men has never done her good in the past.

_And it would be well for you to remember that._

For a moment, his eyes dim and he looks hurt, but soon that annoyingly handsome smirk is back.

"And you, _Mademoiselle_, have yet to resist."


	2. Chapter 2

She pulls her arm out of his grasp. "Sorry 'bout that, I'm having a bit of an off day. Usually I'm able to resist any guy that tries pulling me around."

The words come out much harsher than she wanted, than she'd hoped, but all her worries are gone when he's tossing his head back and laughing so loudly, every person within a three mile radius can probably hear them. Eponine rubs her arms and tries to shrink away from the light the way oil clumps and tries to escape the water it's thrown into.

But this water just won't let her have her way.

The young man -_I don't even know his name for god's sake_- takes her arm again and gently steers her back to her seat. His hand is warm and speaks of many nights by the fire, far away from the cold night air.

"My name's Enjolras, by the way." _Great, he can read my mind. What's next, a surprise massage?  
_  
"My name's...Eponine." For a second she wonders if she should lie, have a chance to escape while she still can. But his eyes are looking at her, and they're so blue and for once, just _once,_ she feels as though someone is actually seeing her, not what she might be useful for.

"Eponine." The word swims off of his tongue as if it belonged there. "What a beautiful name."

Her legs feel like jelly, and Eponine half-heartedly wishes that she could just say "un-jellify" and feel confident standing on her own two feet. At the moment, she feels as though nothing but his strong arm is holding her upright.

"Thank you, sir. My mother picked it out of a novel." She is not sure why she is telling this almost-stranger (they did finally learn each other's names, after all) how she had gotten to be named. Eponine, however, likes her secrets, and decides that her last name will remain hidden. For now.

They are back at their seats and Enjolras goes to his seat first. Eponine cannot feel a bit disappointed, but is relieved to see him smiling back at her once she sits down.

"I can tell this is going to be a very interesting flight, _Mademoiselle_ Eponine."


	3. Chapter 3

Truth be told, Eponine had never been on a plane before, but she had heard stories of long naps and painful neck cramps. She had never expected for something like _this_ to occur, a haphazard meeting with a handsome young man whose lips just happen to keep gliding into her field of vision.

"What book are you reading?" Small talk. Of course.

_Oh well, no relationship ever began with some mind blowing realization. Mine just involved a tad bit more embarrassment than most..._

She bookmarks the page and closes the book, allowing him to better see the well worn cover.

"The Hobbit. I sure hope you've heard of it, 'cause we can't be friends otherwise." The remark is brash, unexpected, but completely her. To her delight, Enjolras chuckles.

"For one so confident with words, why did you run away when I first got to my seat?"

Half of her wants to answer, to unload her problems onto someone. It has been a while since someone listened to her. But more memories fly in, memories of broken trust and false smiles.

_I am Eponine Thenardier_, she thinks. _And my problems are my own._

She settles for a smile. "That wasn't an answer to my question, Enjolras."

He shrugs. "Very well. The Hobbit is one of my favorite books. Happy?"

She smiles, but having their awkward first encounter brought up brings a blush to her cheeks.

"How about this? I'll tell you my story if you tell me yours."

The voices and memories continue to yell at her, scold her for trusting. She pushes them aside.

_I am stronger than my memories. I am stronger than you, Father. This is my new life, and by god I will do everything in my power to make sure you are not a part of it._


	4. Chapter 4

The clouds are as white as Marius's skin, and after her first glimpse of the open sky, Eponine has to turn away from the window. Enjolras is glancing at her with concern and gently places his hand on hers.

_As a form of comfort_, Eponine thinks. _Nothing more._ And yet, when he takes his hand away a moment later, she can't help but miss the warmth that had come with it.

_Darkness the sun is rising but the world is black and WHERE ARE THESE IMAGES COMING FROM_

"First time on an airplane, huh?" She shrugs. His eyes catch a dark bruise on her neck as her hair shifts, but Enjolras doesn't mention it. For a moment, he wonders why, and then the realization hits him like a wave attacks rocks on a beach.

He doesn't want her to run away again.

He takes a deep breath. "Well, you asked for my story...I guess I can start by saying that I love flying. Being on the ground...gravity is this undefeatable force that you can't mess with, can't fight...I guess being on a plane lets me feel what that would be like, to be weightless, no concerns in life."

He pauses and glances at her, the girl with infinitely more things to worry about than he ever will. Her expression is unreadable, staring back at him with equal intensity.

"My parents used to say I had my head up in the clouds even when I wasn't on a plane. Probably because I tried to instigate a protest at every school I went to." He chuckles at this, but Eponine senses there's something more to the story. Something much less heavenly than a flight amongst the clouds.

His eyes meet hers. "Always trying to make things better, huh?" She practically whispers the question, but Enjolras hears every word as clearly as if she'd shouted them.

"I can fix you..." He whispers back, and for a moment Eponine feels as though she can trust him, that it'll be nice to rely on someone else for a change. But then she feels his hand on hers, and she remembers another hand, one so much larger than her own, with bitten fingernails and a harsh grip. She yanks her hand back.

"I'm not your charity case, Sir." He shoots her a questioning look. "Well, we're going to America, aren't we? Might as well start practicing now."

Eponine opens her book again. Her hair falls in front of her cheek, creating a curtain of black between her and Enjolras.

As for the young man, he knows that she's run away again. His eyes try to pierce the black curtain, but in vain. For the moment, he is alone with his memories.


	5. Chapter 5

_Guns. There's shooting. Combeferre, he's yelling, there's something missing..._

Soldiers. Ordered to stop the march. Do whatever's necessary. Keeping the peace is necessary. Enjolras and his friends are not.

Blood mixes with fire, with smoke. It's all a swirl of light and dark, with half of the students unsure of what side they're on. Enjolras can taste the fear in the air, can feel it holding him back in his heart...

_She's there, the girl with midnight-black hair. The one who followed Marius around like a puppy. Like his shadow. She's shot, she's dying, she's climbing the barricade…  
_  
It is her voice that brings him back to the plane, to the smell of old blankets. Enjolras has never woken up to a woman's voice before, and he finds that there is a sharp tightening in his throat as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. A phantom wound aches in his shoulder, but he finds Eponine's hand already covering it.

"Enjolras...you were having a nightmare..."

He purses his lips and turns away, effectively making Eponine lose her gentle grip on his shoulder.

"I do love flying...but there's another reason I'm on this place." He takes a deep breath, his eyes searching the sky, as if there are answers, explanations, _something_ out there.

"There was a march." A wry smile graces his sharp features. "It always starts out with a march. That university...it was very religious, strictly Catholic. It allows people of other religions in because it has some of the best physics programs in the country. But if someone were Protestant, or Lutheran, or anything...well, their stay was anything but pleasant."

Eponine's eyes silently bombard him with questions, but simultaneously urge him to go on. "I don't follow any religion, if you must know. After being in so many schools, talking to so many people...it was hard going to a school like that where the faculty pretended all that harassment just didn't happen." His hands begin to shake, and he grips the arm rests of the chair. Enjolras's eyes shut tightly, and reopen only when he feels Eponine's hand resting gently on his.

"I never finished school." Eponine's eyes are focused on the seat in front of her, on the ceiling, on the guy who's snoring _obnoxiously_ loud next to her, anywhere but on him. As if she knew he was awake.

"My parents pulled me out early after my dad lost his job. Well, our home really. We ran a motel. My dad got into a bit of trouble..." She chuckles at this. "A lot of trouble, really, and next thing I knew, we were living in some broken down ruin that looked more like an old haunted house than a place that housed actual living beings." Her throat feels constricted but Eponine ignores it, plunging deeper into the horror story that makes up her past.

Enjolras almost misses her next words as the man on the other side of Eponine lets out a particularly volcanic snore.

"When I was younger, I used to dream that I was a Disney princess, you know, like freaking Cinderella or something. I thought I was the luckiest one, too, cause I was never tapped in any towers or got any evil stepmother who tries to get me to eat bad apples." Another chuckle, but Enjolras swears he hears a sob mixed in there.

"Fate has a funny way of making things work, huh. My mother never really turned evil, not to my eleven year-old eyes, but that old house sure felt like a tower to me, with my father being the dragon that scared all of the princes away."

Enjolras takes her hand in his again, even though his brain is screaming at him not to, that he's being an idiot and _reading everything wrong and this will just make the rest of the flight really awkward so just don't_-

Eponine smiles at him. A real smile, with a hint of white teeth, and true gratefulness for being there with her. Even if he is little more than a stranger.

Behind that smile, however, Enjolras can see that resentment of pity, the need for independence. He opens his mouth to voice his thoughts, but suspects that might be crossing the line a little bit. Instead, he decides a slightly different approach.

"I'm no prince, Eponine, but it seems to me that you've escaped that tower at last. And on your own. Quite a feat for a character that's normally seen as a damsel in distress."

_Perhaps you could be my prince_. The thought enters her head unannounced, but Eponine shoves it away.

_I have no more time for fairy tales,_ she thinks. _This handsome boy has stepped right out of a fantasy novel, and I have come wreaking with the smell of real life. Fiction and reality never blend well, for who would ever be able to tell where the boundaries of one ended, and the next began?_


	6. Chapter 6

"Thenardier."

He almost jumps, startled as her voice breaks the partial silence in the plane. Between the snores and the laughter, the cabin can never be truly silent.

"My full name is Eponine Thenardier." She never looks at him, not once with her mind yelling at her to _stop, you stupid girl he can't change your past_  
_  
He already knows me past. Might as well finish the story._

She closes her eyes when she feels his hand on hers once more. _Eponine, get out of this while you still can, throw your shoe at him, just run-  
_  
"And mine is Antoine Enjolras." The voices in her head stop, evidently as stunned as she is, because when she finally dares to look at him, he is smiling.

"Do you even know who my parents are?" She's never encountered a straight face when she mentioned her last name, and she can't believe that she'd be lucky enough to start with a man as handsome as he.

Enjolras shrugs. "Who hasn't?"

She's still giving him that look, and it's all he can do not to burst out laughing. "What? You told me your name, I told you mine. We're even."

"Listen...can I buy you a cup of coffee when the plane lands? We're almost in America, and it would be nice to spend the first few hours with a friend."

She's still staring at him like he's gone mad, absolutely bonkers. He sighs and lets out a sad chuckle.

"I'm not going to judge you for your parents, Eponine. I hope you believe I'm better than that. Because I know already that you're better than them."

She scoffs and pulls her hand away, a steel wall forming in her eyes. "How can you be so sure? We only just met a few hours ago."

Another shrug. Another smirk. "Ever heard of taking a risk?"


	7. Chapter 7

Funny how things can turn out. You enter an airplane alone, and seven hours later walk out with a handsome man, one who keeps insisting upon buying you a cup of coffee.

The other people seem to have had a normal flight. They chat, they mingle, they dissolve and reappear like fireworks in the sky.

Your memories attack with bayonets and guns, fighting to keep you from making another mistake. They show you scenes of a crimson street, where the blood of boys and men mixed together.

We truly are all the same on the inside.

But _he's_ there, and his blue eyes are smiling, and you think that maybe, just maybe, this can work. That you and this almost-stranger have been given a second chance.

And so the airport lives and dies, a place of movement and realization, of standing still and of wanting to pick a random country and go on a whim. Of voices and laughter, of those songs whose names you can't quite place. And where the last words of a lonely song keep playing on and on.

_I wish I could fly_

From this building

From this wall

And if I should try

Would you catch me if I fall?

**Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone who favorited and followed this story! I hope you had as much fun reading it as I had writing it! To be honest, this last chapter was and still remains my favorite in this entire story. Nonetheless, there are tears on my face because this story has finally reached its conclusion.**

**But no fear! There is a multi-chapter Beauty and the Beast fic in progress, and I think I have a one-shot hidden somewhere in my documents…**

***Dons helmet and khaki pants* time to go exploring the depths of my computer! See you all next time!**


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